


PROJECT: SIVA_MK II

by Detachedfox



Series: The 'What You Don't See In Destiny' Series [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games), Destiny - Fandom, Destiny 2 - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-03-20 06:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18987190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detachedfox/pseuds/Detachedfox
Summary: when Rasputin, a defensive Warmind that was re-awakened from a century long hibernation took control of SIVA and turned it against the Iron Lords when they tried to harness the program to create a new Golden Age. It defeated ninety-nine of the hundred Iron Lords that tried to take it out. Only Lord Saladin really knows what went down that day and firmly believed SIVA to be destroyed and dead.SIVA would remain Saladin's burden and secret until a Sunbreaker stumbled upon the corrupted program and what the Sunbreaker found, he would never be able to forget.





	1. Epigraph

Look, long story short, I get busy, and I'm thinking "I've got this." Y'know when you're in that, y'go "I got this." but man. . . I so did not have it. 

_\-  Cayde-6_


	2. Introduction

Ever heard of an old, nearly forgotten wold-building program called SIVA? It was a Golden Age nanotechnology developed by Clovis Bray that had the power to construct worlds around it and could build colonies and structures faster than any other technology could. it was meant to help advance humanity further into the stars, help humanity stretch into the unknown, help them be more than they ever had.

The plans Clovis Bray had for it never came to be.

After the collapse when Rasputin, a defensive Warmind that was re-awakened from a century long hibernation took control of SIVA and turned it against the Iron Lords when they tried to harness the program to create a new Golden Age. It defeated ninety-nine of the hundred Iron Lords that tried to take it out. Only Lord Saladin really knows what went down that day and firmly believed SIVA to be destroyed and dead.

SIVA would remain Saladin’s burden and secret until a Sunbreaker stumbled upon the corrupted program and what the Sunbreaker found, he would never be able to forget.


	3. Chapter One

_An eery stillness swept over the snow-covered battle field. Wherever he turned he saw nothing but mounds of what he knew to be Fallen and Guardians alike. The snow buried everything horrific that’d taken place in the battle that’d levelled the forest around them, in a pure white layer of innocence. Fallen Walkers and Drakes turned into small hills, weapons became part of the ground beneath him, the permanently blood-stained earth hidden._

_Where was he?_

_Twilight Gap? Battle of Storms? Fellwinter? It was just too hard to tell. He knew he’d definitely fought in which ever battle had taken place around him, the very faint, almost inaudible yells and cries affirmed as much, but he just couldn’t place his finger on it. “Where the hell. . .” The light snowfall did nothing to aid his bearings._  

_“Vass come on!”_

_He whipped his head around to the direction of the echo of a German shouting, but there was nothing. Just an echo, a whisper, a memory he’d chosen to forget._  

_“Fall back! Fall back!!”_

_He turned to the English orders but again there was nothing. Just endless miles of a snowy battlefield and white skies, that merged somewhere on the horizon._  

 _“Sunbreakers, Mauls! Strikers, Fists! Sentinels, Bubbles!”_  

_He resisted the urge to turn to the robotic sounding yell but after hearing the clangs of the Hammers, crackles of the lightning-engulfed fists and the distinct popping of the bubbles, he gave in and turned for a third time to face nothing. He let out an exasperated sigh, “This is getting annoying. Rook, what’s going on?” He spread out his palm to summon his Ghost._

_Silence._  

 _He not very subtly rolled his eyes at his Ghost’s stubbornness to answer him. He balled then spread out his hand again, “Rook come on, now’s not the time to be an ass.” His Ghost was as stubborn as a dead Minotaur._  

_Silence._

_“This is getting ridiculous. . .” He flicked his hand out again and again and again but his Ghost just wouldn’t appear. Rook was never that stubborn, it was as if he wasn’t there at all. Something was wrong. “Rook?”_  

 _He was alone._  

_The cold air bit at his nose and ears yet he didn’t feel cold. Even in full armour and a thermo suit, he could overheat or freeze but he didn’t feel either. Cozy even. That wasn’t right either. It looked to be the dead of winter, he should be freezing his ass off. The snow started to get heavier and the wind picked up, but still he felt barely any of it._

_Suddenly a gigantic shadow loomed over him, blocking out the sun around him and bathed him in a bright red light. His breath hitched at the sudden presence behind him, making him slowly and hesitantly turn to face whatever it was that’d intruded on his confused solace. He caught sight of a metal spike of a leg and then a second and a third and a fourth. He dared to flick his eyes up past the large, spiked and cabled body, past the metal arms and throat until he was met with blazing red eyes boring into his own._

_The horrifying black and red thing let out an intelligible screech, throwing its’ head and shoulders back before it lunged for him, claws for hands stretched out to his face._

Chris jolted awake in an instant, gasping for air and sweating as if he’d just been on Mercury without his armour. He tried to blink away the tears glistening in his eyes but found no such luck and resorted to wiping his face with his hands.

“Scathe?” 

He shakily turned to his black and dark green shelled Ghost, “A-A dr-eam-“ He quickly shook his head to get rid of the image of the blazing red eyes boring into his soul. What the hell was that symbol that’d flashed in its eyes?

Rook flew around to the front of his Guardian, expanding his shell a little, “Another location?” He hated the nights his Brit had the Hunter dreams. It never ended well.

Fear coursed through his veils making his heart beat deafeningly loudly. “N-o.” Chris grasped at the sides of his head. “R-Red ey-es.” 

The little light shook its body, “Scathe, Speaker. Now.” His Guardian was in a bad way and there was nothing he could do about it.

The Sunbreaker let his arms drop, “O-Okay.” He barely whispered with a very quick nod.

 

* * *

  

The North Tower was usually abuzz with Warlocks and scholars alike bouncing research notes off one another but for once the night owls weren’t packing the Tower. A handful of Tower workers were scattered around the sheltered area and an even smaller amount of Frames were guarding their areas but other than that, cicadas and silence. Not that he minded. He was trudging all the way from his apartment in the lower levels of the Tower all the way to Speaker’s small crook in only a pair of baggy sleeping pants and a loose and oversized, long-sleeved T-shirt. He hadn’t even bothered to put shoes on. He needed guidance too badly to remember such a trivial thing as shoes. 

He rarely slept well anymore, the dreams of new locations and forgotten mysteries plagued his mind too much to rest well. Rook had once drained him of his light as much as he could to induce a dreamless sleep but that just made the dreams worse. The Speaker rarely offered any useful advice, always ‘your dreams will become clear soon’ or ‘try not to dwell on the past. For it is in the past where our demons sleep’. Cayde had made more sense than he had. Though the Exo had suggested someone knock him out each night, even that hadn’t worked. It wasn’t that his dreams appeared every single night, it was that they were sporadic and intense. They were never easy to avoid or predictable enough to guess when they would appear. It was as if something was messing with him, giving him the hellish dreams when he least expected it. If he ever found out what it was that was forcing the dreams on him, it’d have a very short conversation with his hand cannon.

He managed to ignore most dreams but the demonic eyes were new. Something that shook and harrowed him to his very core. That made him stutter, something he hadn’t done in over twenty years. It had even made him cry. He hadn’t done that in thirty years. The eyes were different, just something about them made them seem so real. . . Just what was that symbol? He’d seen locations of planets on the edge of collapsing under the pressure of a black hole, frozen tundras crumbling into the earth only to have lava spurt out, even an abandoned testing site in the lower desert of Mars but nothing like the mechanical monster. To think that something like that existed frightened him even more.

When he entered the Tower that served as The Speakers’ personal study, he expected to see the man up on the raised area going back and forth from the bookcases filled to the brim with books and scrolls to his desks and back again. But instead he found the white-robed and masked Warlock standing in front of the humungous Vitalis, waiting for someone, him?

He shuffled towards the railing the mysterious man was resting his hands on, not caring whether he was heard or not. “S-Speaker-“ He barely managed to stutter when he stopped next to the man and his hands immediately grasped the railing so tightly he might dent the dark grey metal.

“Scathe.” The Speaker replied in a calming, even voice that would put anyone at ease. He slowly turned to face the dishevelled Sunbreaker, “Do your dreams distress you once more?” He already knew the answer but asked anyway.

Chris let his head drop a little, “Y-Yes.” He didn’t even realise how badly his entire body was shaking until it froze up when a gentle hand rested on his left shoulder.

“Calm down and take deep breaths in.” Speaker quietly ordered. “We have been over this many times, your dreams are just that of a Hunters’. Just visions of places you have not yet been. They mean nothing.” 

The Sunbreaker took jagged breath after jagged breath in until he no longer felt the tightness in his chest and the hand leave his shoulder. “No.” He finally managed to answer. “It was different from the others.”

Speaker tilted his head questioningly. “How so?” A hundred times he’d gotten the same reply, and a hundred times he had listened to the explanations of the meaningless visions. 

He explained every single detail of the dream - no, nightmare - down to the minor detail that he didn’t feel cold in the frozen hellscape. He tried to explain the burning red symbol he’d only caught a single glimpse of before he woke himself up. How he hadn’t seen such a metallic beast before and how it seemed to stare into the very core of his being, like it was trying to learn about every aspect of him. “-I just can’t explain it. It was just so different from anything else I’ve seen. But you’re just going to tell me to just ignore it, it’s just a Hunter vision.” He slumped against the railings, looking out at the great white ball hovering indefinitely over the city.

The Speaker took a long moment to think over the vision, considering many ways to go about dealing with the disturbing nightmare. “No, I won’t.” He finally spoke up. “You are right. This nightmare, it’s not simply a warped place you have never been but perhaps a warning or calling. The battlefield you described was one that sounds so familiar to those old enough, they still see it in the deepest depths of their nightmares. You would’ve been nothing but a newly Risen then.” He strode over to one of the raised basins containing a celestial looking sphere only a Warlock would understand and how how to use. 

He raised his eyebrow at the odd statement. “What battle? I wasn’t in a. . . Twilight Gap.” His eyes flicked to the sphere that’d suddenly changed from what it was to a moment of carnage and chaos. “I was there.” He muttered meekly.

The Speaker nodded, “So newly Risen, most who took a single look at you thought you would not make it out alive. I do not believe it was mere coincidence your nightmare chose to put you in Twilight Gap.” As soon as his gloved hand drew away from the captured moment, it turned back into the celestial sphere like the ones surrounding the vitalis. 

He raked a hand through his near military length umber hair, “What should I do then?” Where would he even begin to look for one single symbol he’d seen for a millisecond?

“Hmmm. . .” The Warlock went silent for a long moment, bringing his hand up to his mask. “Start in the Archives, I believe your nightmare might have been related to old Warmind subroutine, I cannot say for sure which one it might’ve been but I suggest starting there.”

“Like Rasputin?” The corners of his mouth twitched upward at the idea of his dreams being connected to the most ruthless Warmind created in the Golden Age.  

The Speaker shrugged slightly, “Perhaps, or possibly a lesser Warmind. I cannot say for sure which one it could be.” He was sure the symbol the Sunbreaker described had something to do with a Warmind, though whether it was Rasputin, Charlemagne or one of the others was hard to say.

The Titan nodded slowly, “Warminds. . . right. Thank you Speaker.” He turned to leave to head to the Archives. Unless someone knocked him out, he refused to go back to sleep in fear of seeing the blazing demon again. 

“Of course.” The Speaker nodded in return. “Rook.” He called after the silent Ghost that’d been observing their conversation from the entrance.

The little light turned to the call. “Yes?” He tilted his body to the right.

“Look after him.” He stated firmly. “This beast he described, it could be what brought down the Iron Lords. If it’s somehow connected to him, don’t let him anywhere near it.”

“Of course.” Rook nodded. “I will try.” 

“Good.”

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Chapter 1 and my boi is already confused! 
> 
>  
> 
> Also published on Wattpad if you prefer that site (it has funny gifs and images)
> 
> https://www.wattpad.com/story/188949350-project-siva_mk-ii


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